


Comfort Hug #8: Finding Hope

by Crowley_Is_My_Copilot



Series: Comfort Hugs [8]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, finally a fic where i don't overuse italics or bolding, i tried my best with shizuo but this was actually harder than izaya??, mentions of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 10:30:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12209433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowley_Is_My_Copilot/pseuds/Crowley_Is_My_Copilot
Summary: A chance encounter in Ikebukuro makes for some oddly uplifting conversation.A reader x Shizuo comfort fic, set in canon, sometime after the first slasher incident.





	Comfort Hug #8: Finding Hope

**Author's Note:**

> *disclaimer: other disclaimers apply, this fic was requested by a friend and they agreed to let me post it here as well in case someone else finds it helpful.

The night air was warm. Ikebukuro was always alive but it seemed more alive at night. You wish you could enjoy it, could look around at how vivid it is and feel something. 

Or no, that's not right. You feel something. A sort of empty feeling where hope ought to be. After all, how could anyone look around and see all the life and not feel hope? There must be something wrong with you; that's how it feels. Somewhere, someone is laughing and there's a sound that at first you think is a horse but then realize is the echo of a motorcycle -- how could you think it was anything else.  But you, you're dragging your feet as you walk, tears staining your cheeks. 

" _ **IDIOTS**_."

The word rings out and you stop, looking around for the source.

At first there's nothing. Then two men coming running out of the darkness followed by a third man flying through the air above their heads. The sight is so strange that you're rooted to the spot. One of the men bumps into you hard enough to knock you to the ground. Their panic is so great that you think you should probably run as well but you don't.

"You IDIOTS."

After the words follows a man. From where you're sitting on the ground he seems impossibly tall. His face is contorted in anger but even then you can tell he's handsome. Long strides take him to about where you are in an instant. 

"Get back-- Oh, hey." He's looking at you. For a moment, the anger switches to confusion and then returns. "Did they do this? I'll kill 'em."

The shock wears off and you shake your head.

"No, no, sorry. They didn't do anything. I fell."

"I gotcha," he says and for a moment you don't know what that means until he holds out a hand towards you. 

You hesitate for a second - you have a vision of flying through the air yourself - but then you take his hand and he pulls you to your feet. The sensation is odd because you can feel the strength in his grip and how easily he helps you up but there is such a restrained gentleness to it. 

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He looks at you and frowns. "You sure you're okay. Look, if someone made you cry, just tell me and I'll pound them into the ground."

He's staring so intensely at you that you don't think you can lie like you normally would. 

"It's nothing. It's just me."

He frowns and glances away. 

"Usually when people cry, they have a reason."

"I-I don't want to bother you."

"If it bothered me, I wouldn't have asked."

You can't deny the logic in that. Taking a deep breath, you rub a hand across your cheek. This man has no reason to care about you and yet.

"Sometimes everything feels hopeless. That probably sounds silly but it makes it hard to keep going when you feel empty," you say. Your voice hitches. "I think there's something wrong with me." 

He shoves his hands into his pockets like he's not sure what to do with them.

" _Yeah_. Yeah, I get it. You look around and everyone else seems so damn perfect and then there's you."

You nod, not sure if he's just humoring you, but in a way it's a nice gesture. Most people try to make you feel better in ways that ring hollow. This feels more honest. 

"Yeah," you echo. "I want to feel some kind of hope for... anything but I can't."

He's silent for a long while, taking the time to light a cigarette and taking a long drag. Exhaling, he seems to decide on something.

"You know what I think? I think it's all bullshit, thinking we're broken because we don't fit into some kind of mold." It's like the words make him think of something rotten and he flicks the cigarette away. "That's something that damn flea would say. So screw that. Maybe hope comes harder for you. Like not wanting to punch everyone comes hard for me. It doesn't make us broken. It might take a bit but I'm sure you'll get there."

There's something about that weird, off-beat hope in his words that resonates. It wouldn't come easy and you're not sure that you can do it but--

"Thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it. It's not often I can actually offer some words of wisdom. I get what you mean, about not feeling like you have any hope. You're not alone." 

The tears are threatening again and you try to hold them back but it doesn't work. You're crying in a park in Ikebukuro with a man who is dressed like a bartender and maybe the world isn't so hopeless.

"Oh, don't do that." You're surprised by the feeling of his arms around you. They're thin but you can feel the strength in them. The way he's hugging you makes you wonder if it's something he's ever done before. It's as if he's afraid of breaking you. He's trying, though, and you're a complete stranger to him so shouldn't you be able to try too? Even just a little bit. You hug him back, grateful. 

"See," he says, patting your head awkwardly. "You'll figure it out. If a screw up like me can find a place, so can you."

"Thank you. That really did help."

"Yeah?" He pulls back, keeping his hand on your shoulder. "Good. I'm not the right guy for this but I gave it my best. Say, if you ever want some cheap sushi that may or may not make you sick, I know just the place."

You dry the tears with your sleeve and smile.

"I think I'll take you up on that," you say and mean it.


End file.
